Rise and Fall 2: Frankie Benetorie
by Vermone
Summary: Part 2 in a look at some of the most violent characters in the GTA world and their rise to fame: Brought into a world of endless drugs, fast cars and even faster girls, this story catalogues the rise of Frankie Bentorie through the mafia. Please R & R.


**Author's notes: I'm not sure if this is rated highly enough so I'm going to give a warning here. Basically, it's a GTA fanfic so there is mild violence and sexual themes from the start. If anyone thinks that it's too graphic or whatever then please let me know. I don't want to get into any trouble.**

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Chapter 1: Family Ties

Slash, swipe, crack… the blows fell furiously as a fist crashed against feminine skin, the woman's face beginning to swell. The man backhanded her as she tried to escape to the kitchen; the front room covered in broken crockery and upturned furniture. The woman stumbled back as the man approached, tears flooding her eyes. She glanced at the boy cowering in the corner before hysterically turning to face her husband.

He was a tall man with wild raven hair, a golden stud in his ear. He was unclean and smelt of alcohol, wearing his dirty work clothes from his rudimentary factory job. He approached his wife with clenched fists, purple and blue bruising beginning to appear around his red knuckles. The brunette woman began to back up quickly, bumping into the living room wall. She was a short lady and she wore scraggly clothes her husband had found in a charity shop. She had been locked up in the house for years.

Her husband kept coming as the child watched, releasing a silent scream as he fell on her. The man grabbed her wrists and held her against the wall, fumbling under the woman's skirt with his free hand. The woman tried to fight back and kicked with her legs but the man had her pinned, his fingers handling her roughly. The child jumped up and ran into his father; the ten-year old's tiny fists hammering away. The man let go of the woman as he grabbed the child, hoisting him over his shoulder and dragging him to the kitchen. The child lashed, smacking his father in the face. The woman screamed as the man dropped the child and backhanded him, sending the youngster to the floor.

The woman grabbed the nearest object to hand and charged her husband, jumping on his back, brandishing the large carving knife the family had been using for their makeshift thanksgiving dinner. The man struggled as the flailing wife wrapped her arm around her husband's throat, restricting the airflow to his lungs. She held on tightly and plunged with the knife, the steel blade arcing through the air, settling in the man's fleshy chest. He slowly stopped struggling as blood began to fall to the floor. The woman released her grip as the body fell, scarlet liquid staining the lino in the kitchen.

The woman struggled to breathe as the boy ran up to her, wrapping his arms around her. She squeezed the boy tightly, floods of tears soaking the child. She rocked him back and forth and wiped the blood off the boy's face, his lip split. All of a sudden she got up and, snatching the car keys off the side-table, grabbed hold of the little boy's hand. She opened the front door and descended the few steps that led to their house, before standing on the driveway and unlocking the red Manana. She bundled the boy into the passenger seat and settled in on the driver's side, starting the engine…

X

The red Manana raced down the main road as the mother wiped the tears from her cheeks. She travelled for miles before pulling off the highway, the car rolling down the off ramp. The woman turned corner after corner, navigating busy streets and narrow roads until she eventually reached her sister's house. She parked the car on the road next to a silver sports car. The area was clearly full of rich people and each house looked identical, the inhabitants keeping idyllic gardens and clean homes.

It looked like heaven to Annette, almost perfect. Annette looked around in wonder, wanting to know why it was her who had to go through this terrible ordeal. She looked at her son and began to cry, tears streaming down her face. The boy looked her in the eyes and smiled faintly, his blue eyes lighting her up. She hugged him tight and got out of the car, opening the door for the boy to get out. She grabbed hold of his hand, her soft hands grasping his tightly. The boy stared up at her as they walked through the garden gate and up the path to the front door. Annette banged against the door lightly, barely having the energy to raise her hand. She shook as she waited, her body exhausted and drained.

Eventually the door opened and Annette's sister appeared, the woman staring at the rag-tag family at her door. She was a beautiful woman with hair of golden yellow. She held out her arms and grabbed Annette without a word, dragging her inside. The boy stared at his aunt as the door shut in front of him, the day's sunlight fading into dusk. He slumped down on the step and put his head in his hands, red images filling his youthful mind…

x

Frankie Benetorie sat in a chair in his aunt's living room, leaning against the glass table. The room was sparse and had a minimalist feel to it. It had been six years since his dad had died and it was the first day of his third school. Frankie's aunt sat in the seat opposite, ignoring him in the way she always did. Frankie was used to it by now. His cousin sat to his left, the fifteen year old girl eating her breakfast quietly. Frankie liked having her around, she was like his sister.

Frankie got down from the table and took his bowl to the kitchen, placing it carefully on the counter. He ran up the stairs and grabbed his bag before walking across the landing, knocking on his mum's door. He opened it quietly and looked in, the curtains of the room still pulled. His mother was asleep as usual, her body withering as she lay. His mother was a broken husk. She never smiled and she hardly ate, constant torment ravaging her mind. Frankie frowned and descended back down the stairs. He opened the front door and started walking, the bright morning sunshine hurting his eyes.

He was a tall boy, quite lanky and quite thin. He wore a plain black t-shirt with ripped jeans, a cheap plastic watch on his wrist. He had raven hair like his dad; the scraggly mess on top of his head like a bird's nest. He was every bit the foundation of his future self. He had had sex at the age of twelve; an older girl had got drunk and had offered herself to him, the opportunistic teen grabbing hold of the blonde sixteen year old with every ounce of enthusiasm. He had smoked his first cigarette at thirteen, moving onto weed by the summer, excluded from his second school for being caught. Unlike his aunt, he did not see education as important, preferring to hang around the streets with whatever gang chose to show up around Layman, participating in whatever lucrative act they wanted to perform. Frankie was accepted for what he was; he was an outcast.

Frankie turned up at the school and headed through the main gates, surveying the area as he approached the entrance. Teens were beginning to file into the school from the playground as the bell rang. He watched as some older boys pushed there way through, making their dominance known. Frankie just stared, full of respect for those who wielded power, no matter how small. He shook his head and filed in with the rest of them, the wide hallway buzzing as the teens headed to their respective classes.

He was on his own in a moment, lost in a maze of corridors and doors with no idea where to go. He carried on down the hallway; searching for a room that had the number on it he'd been given.

"Fuck sake" he cursed loudly as he slowly became more lost.

"You ok?" came a girl's voice from across the corridor. She was just coming out of the girl's toilets as Frankie had walked by. She wore tight jeans and a low cut pink top covering an exceptionally sized chest for a girl of her age.

"No," replied Frankie despondently, "I can't fucking find 306"

"That's alright," said the girl smiling sexily, "You're with me"

The girl began walking down the corridor until she realised Frankie wasn't following. She turned and marched straight back up to him, her straightened hair flicking as she walked. She grabbed his hand and smiled at him again.

"Come on dreamer"

They chatted constantly, Frankie doing his best to charm the girl as she led him down the corridor and to the left. They followed a smaller passageway until they reached their destination. The girl turned when they reached the door, placing a kiss on his cheek.

"Hope to see you later" she said with a giggle, putting her hand on the door handle and opening it.

Frankie swallowed hard and walked into the room, the male teacher standing sternly at the front of the room.

"And where have you been Annabelle?" said the teacher, his harsh tone silencing the class.

"I ran into the new boy Mr Ghutten," the girl said innocently, fluttering her eyelids, "He was lost"

"Right… well… good girl" said the teacher, ignoring the laughing in the classroom. "Has he been to see Principal Reynolds?"

"No sir" replied Frankie, wondering why he hadn't been spoken to yet.

"Take him to the office Annabelle and come straight back"

Annabelle gave Mr Ghutten a flirtatious smile before grabbing hold of Frankie and dragging him out of the room. She marched him back down the passageway and up a flight of stairs, firing question after question at him. Frankie was loving the attention and stared at the girl's luscious lips as he talked to her. She had a habit of running her hand through her hair every time he asked her a question, the highlighted strands falling elegantly back into a place. She stopped all of a sudden and turned to Frankie, her hair covering one of her eyes.

"Should I tell you what I would like to do?" she said, grabbing his hand and nodding to the bathroom door.

He gasped in surprise as she pulled him, opening the door and dragging a not-so-reluctant Frankie in with her. He held her waist as she began kissing him, those full lips ravaging Frankie's. He banged her against the wall, pressing against her, her thighs wrapping around his waist. She took control, pushing him into the cubicle; guiding him with one hand. They locked lips again as Frankie's hands began to wonder over her body, subtle movements making her tense with every passing. He ran up and down her stomach, the smooth skin tantalising his fingertips. She moaned gently as he kissed her neck reaching down with her hand, lowering his zip. She slid her hand in and grabbed him, pulling him out. Pushing him against the wall, she held on to him firmly before crouching down, taking Frankie in her mouth…

x

Frankie lay on Annabelle's bed comfortably, the covers around his bare chest. The couple had been together for two years now and it was where Frankie spent most of his time. Annabelle lay on top of him, her head resting on his chest. She was still the same beautiful girl and she breathed softly as she slept, the morning sun beginning to enter the room through the cracks in the curtains. Frankie smiled as he stroked her hair, his hand wondering down the bare skin of her back.

Her room was particularly girly; the walls were painted pink and fluffy cushions were piled on the bed. She had a small desk where she did her school work, Frankie having dropped his education at seventeen. Despite this, Annabelle made every effort to further her studies. She was as bright as she was beautiful, her sexual appetite having the ability to make Frankie do whatever she wanted.

"Morning dreamer" she said softly as woke, her tired eyes opening and revealing her chocolate brown eyes. Frankie stared back, his blue eyes cloudy like the sky.

"Morning sleepy head" he said slowly in his deep voice.

Annabelle rolled off of Frankie and removed the covers, her naked torso getting out of the bed. Frankie watched her as she got dressed, admiring the various parts of her body.

"You going to drive me to college?" she asked, tying her hair up.

"Of course" he said, jumping out of the bed and grabbing his jeans.

The pair raced downstairs and out the front door of the small house, jumping into the battered convertible Frankie had saved from the scrap yard. The car was the only thing Frankie owned save for the clothes on his back. He had stolen it as the owner had dropped the car off, not wanting to spend the money of getting it fixed up. Its exhaust had been hanging off and the engine occasionally overheated but Frankie had made it his project to get it into some working order. He still hadn't gotten round to banging the dents out and fixing up the paintwork though.

Putting the car into reverse, Frankie guided it down the long drive as he looked back over his shoulder, braking hard when a screaming hot hatch shot past followed by a pure American muscle car. The car threw the passengers about as it came to a halt, the back of the car mere inches away from the front wing of the scarlet Jester when it had gone past, jolting to a stop,.

"What was that about?" said Annabelle, her body relaxing.

"Fuck knows" said Frankie, putting his hand on the girl's knee and giving a weak smile.

He knew exactly what it was about. Racing on the streets of Layman was the newest fad to arrive on the police department's door. Frankie had been down into the commercial district late at night to witness the petrol heads showcase their rides before blasting them around the narrow alleys and sharp junctions. It was fast becoming a professional outfit and the police were struggling desperately to keep it under wraps, the supped up roadsters leaving them in the dust.

Frankie made many journeys at night, mainly whilst Annabelle was sleeping. He would go out mostly to get high on coke with his friends before heading back and creeping into bed before she woke up. She would wake up not knowing he'd ever been gone and they would have the most amazing sex before she went to college. It was just the way things were and Frankie fucking loved it.

Frankie took his foot off the brake and let the car roll down the drive before putting it in gear and pulling off, his foot slamming to the floor. He charged down the street and onto the main boulevard, the wind racing over the windscreen and blowing into their faces. Frankie had discovered that the roof had actually broken and wouldn't go over the top of the car. It was trouble whenever it looked like it was going to rain.

Frankie pulled up outside the college and kissed Annabelle before she got out, her luscious lips glazing his. She looked at him dreamily before smiling, heading up the steps and through the front door of the institution. Frankie watched her the whole time, his eyes drawn to her tight fitting jeans. Chuckling to himself, he set about finding himself something to do.

Frankie was the sort of person who never liked hard work. If there was a quick way to get somewhere he'd do it. He had done a series of low-level jobs in his life and had been sacked from all of them within a month. It wasn't that he wasn't committed enough, he just had a habit of falling into trouble all of the time. His ragtag image didn't help. He had short hair for the first time in his life but insisted on wearing what he wanted. There was nothing Annabelle could do to get him out of his jeans and t-shirts. He was his own man and he did things his way.

He pulled his car up in a car park outside a 24/7. It was usually the place he went to score but today he was just going to chill. He didn't need to do drugs all of the time to feel satisfied. Some days it happened all by itself. He went inside the shop and bought the day's paper with what spare change he had in his pocket. The Asian attendant was clearly not concentrating as Frankie had given him the wrong money. He walked out and opened it, trying to find an advert that jumped out at him. He needed the money to fulfil man's basic instinct: survival.

He had been thrown out of his aunties when he was discovered with Annabelle on the living room couch, the couple having sex after a drunken night at a club they'd snuck in to. The woman had been furious, literally tossing Annabelle out but the collar. Frankie had yelled at her and broke some furniture before storming out. He hadn't spoken to his family for at least a year, his mum refusing to come out of solitary confinement.

Frankie looked up from his paper to find someone sitting in his car. A smug man sat in the battered convertible, dark brown locks flowing to his shoulders, splaying over his dark suit jacket. He was smoking a cigarette. Frankie rolled the paper up and ran across the road, taking a swipe at the man's head.

"What the fuck are you doing in my car?" he shouted.

"What the fuck are you doing out in daylight dreamer?" replied the man, shielding his head. "Only ever saw you in the dark"

He jumped out of the car semi-gracefully and smiled at Frankie. Frankie couldn't resist it anymore. He broke out into a smile and threw his arms around the guy, slapping him hard on the back as the two man sat back down in the vehicle.

"Fucking Bobby Cortelli" said Frankie to himself.

"Hell yes!" replied the man, "back from the dead"

"Fierro that bad?"

"Nah, not really. Plenty of shit going on but it's not really my scene. Hell, neither is Layman but all my guys are here"

"It must be like a year and a half ago you left for San Andreas" said Frankie, chuckling to himself again. He knew he had a good feeling about today.

"So what you doing with yourself then Frankie? You still with that big breasted babe?" said Bobby as he took a drag of his cigarette.

"I'm just sort of drifting about" said Frankie, ignoring the comment about Annabelle's chest.

"I tell you what," started Bobby, putting the cigarette out, "I've been given a free ticket into this racing thing tonight. I know the wife of the guy who's going to try and beat the girlfriend of the organiser's twin brother's daughter… wait? Um… I know a guy who will let us into the ring anyway"

"And?" said Frankie still trying to work out what Bobby was on about. The girlfriend of the organiser's niece?

"Well, I've been hooked up with a ride except I can't drive for shit" said Bobby. Frankie knew where this was going.

"You want me to race for you?" he replied duly.

"Listen, if we win we can spilt the earnings eighty-twenty because it's my connections that got us here. You take home a hefty sum plus any pink slips you can take. I keep our car though"

"Twenty per cent?" asked Frankie slowly, "Forty or you find someone else"

Bobby smiled. He had been expecting this. He reached into his dark jacket and produced a sealed brown paper bag. He threw it into Frankie's lap and looked at him with dark brown eyes.

"That package contains a bag of coke which needs to be delivered in the next twenty minutes. If you can get us to the drop by then, you get you fucking forty per cent. Go"

Frankie started the engine and reversed hard, shunting into the back of another parked car. He revved the guts out of the engine as he wheelspan, Bobby fixating on his watch. Flying around the 24/7, he threw the car up a gear. The race was on…


End file.
